Mine
by MGMK
Summary: So, Brittany kind of really hates this one song...


**Disclaimer:** Don't own. Just borrowing.

**Author's Note:** Dragging this one over from Tumblr too. Thanks for reading. Song credit: Taylor Swift, "Mine".

* * *

"I hate this damn song," Brittany grumbles, switching the channel on Quinn's car radio.

Quinn doesn't seem to matter much, but her face does look a little perplexed. "Really?"

"Yeah," Brittany says, still sounding miffed. "It's stupid."

"I don't know. It just kinda seems right up your alley," Quinn remarks, turning into the grocery store's parking lot.

"Well, it's not so can we just drop it?" Brittany snaps, already unbuckling her seatbelt.

Quinn is _so _asking Santana about this later.

* * *

The next time something similar happens, Brittany is searching Mercedes' catalog for a playlist for their monthly dance session when she stops shuffling and turns to fix Mercedes with a glare so murderously poignant, Mercedes wonders if she'd stumbled upon her collection of Santana Lopez insults (because for a while, when she was crushing on Sam, she thought it'd be cute to defend him).

But Brittany seems to be more interested in the one file, the mouse pointer hovering over it ominously.

"Why do you even have this on your computer?"

Mercedes squints to read the folder's description and instantly grows confused. "Why wouldn't I?"

"It's just…" Brittany starts to say, then sighs in frustration. "It's country music. I thought your people didn't do country music."

"Brittany, that's racist."

Brittany rolls her eyes. "I'm not saying 'your people' because you're black Mercedes, I'm saying 'your people' as in people who enjoy good music. And this," Brittany hovers over the folder again, "Is definitely not good music."

Mercedes shrugs, "I think some of it is okay," she says, working the track pad herself to open the folder. "Like, have you heard this one so-"

Brittany slams the laptop shut.

"Let's just sync the speakers to my phone instead," she says, already working on doing the task before Mercedes can respond.

* * *

The straw that breaks the camel's back is when Brittany comes home from work a little earlier than anticipated and spots an unfamiliar car in their driveway.

Before Santana and her got married she wouldn't mind it too much but now that she is Brittany finds herself worrying about the tiniest details, so strange and unfamiliar things tend to set off her Brittany-worry radar.

However, instead of finding some deranged man holding her woman hostage and demanding ransom money what she finds sitting there on her couch is worse.

So much worse.

"Hey Britt-Britt," Santana smiles, getting up from the couch. "Guess what? You know how the studio's being butt-holes about letting me write my own stuff solo, well…they decided to send a little help."

"I can see that," Brittany says, her tone monotonous even as she accepts Santana's welcome home hug and kiss.

"Hi," the woman from the couch greets, standing as Brittany draws nearer, "I'm-"

"Taylor Swift," Brittany supplies dryly, cutting her off. "Oh joy."

"Um…" Taylor says, shooting Santana a perplexed look.

"I'm…I'm gonna go to the bedroom. My day was far too draining to have to deal with this," Brittany says rudely, not sparing another second before fleeing to the safety of their bedroom.

"Excuse me, Taylor," Santana says, holding up a finger and following her wife.

"Britt," she says, once they're behind closed doors, "What the hell was that?"

"How could you?" Brittany whispers, rounding on her wife and it's only then that Santana can see the anger and hurt in her eyes. "How could you bring…_her_ into our house?"

"Brittany," Santana starts slowly, moving towards her wife, "You know I love you more than anything and I usually get you like ninety-nine percent of the time but we're in the one percent zone right now. I have no idea what's going on."

"Oh, I don't know," Brittany grumps, "Perhaps I may have an issue with the only other woman who is capable of breaking my heart with one goddamn song."

Santana frowns up again, confused until…_click._

"_Oh_," she says, nearly face-palming in recognition before she softens, reaching out for her wife and drawing her into the comfort of her embrace. "I'm sorry, Britt. I should've known when that song keeps mysteriously disappearing from our iTunes library."

"That's you that keeps downloading it?" Brittany asks, tucking herself into Santana's neck. "I thought Tubbs was paying me back for the kitty-liptical I bought him."

"I get why it'd bother you so much but…maybe there's a way I can fix it."

"How?"

"Come with me."

* * *

Brittany still looks wary sitting there on the couch and the fact that both Santana and Taylor are sitting across from her on their kitchen counter stools, Taylor now wearing a guitar, is not doing her any favors in alleviating her concern.

"So, I've got some news, Britt," Santana starts, "And I've been thinking all day about how to tell you and you just presented me with the perfect opportunity. Hit it, Taylor."

Brittany tears up immediately as the familiar chords break the silence in the living room but she braves it out, looking to Santana for assurance that this time this performance won't end as badly as it did before.

_You were in college working part time waiting tables_

_Left a small town, never looked back_

_I was a flight risk with a fear of fallin'_

_Wondering why we bother with love if it never lasts_

_I say "Can you believe it?"_

_As we're lying on the couch?_

_The moment I can see it._

_Yes, yes, I can see it now._

_Do you remember, we were sitting there by the water?_

_You put your arm around me for the first time._

_You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter._

_You are the best thing that's ever been mine._

Brittany's full-out crying by the time they near the end of the song and Santana gets up to move next to her and Brittany's so messed up that she doesn't notice that her wife's got something behind her back.

_You said, "I remember how we felt sitting by the water._

_And every time I look at you, it's like the first time._

_I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter._

_She is the best thing that's ever been mine."_

Santana takes Brittany's hand and presses something into it – something flat, sort of long – as she continues to sing, brushing away Brittany's tears and singing through her own.

The song finishes and Santana kisses her, chaste but long, kisses Brittany with as much feeling as she can to erase that afternoon many, many years ago.

"Look at your hand, Britt," Santana murmurs into their kiss, breaking away.

Brittany sniffles but she's smiling a little and once she gets a good look at what Santana's given her it drops away entirely.

"Are you…are we…is this for real?" Brittany asks, fresh tears springing to her eyes.

Santana nods. "I took the test this morning," she says, taking in a breath and letting it out shakily. "We're going to have a baby."

"Oh my God," Brittany nearly exclaims, grabbing her wife and kissing her again. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," she says into each kiss, again and again. "And I love that damn song!"

Santana giggles against her lips, wrapping her arms around Brittany's shoulders.

"Aww, you two," Taylor says, wiping her eyes. "Every time I hear that song now I'm gonna have this memory attached to it."

Brittany pulls back to look at Santana, their foreheads still pressed together.

"Me too."


End file.
